Missing

by R. L. Stine

I don’t know what I thought I was going to do. I was feeling more anger than fear. I know that. I mean, what was someone doing in our parents’ room like that, hiding behind the curtain?

  Was it a burglar?

  I didn’t stop to think that it might be someone really dangerous. I didn’t stop to think that it might be someone who would blow me away just as soon as look at me. I guess I didn’t think at all.

  I just ran—and then stopped when Roger stepped out from behind the curtains, looking real embarrassed.

  “It’s only me,” he said. I guess he saw the fierce look on my face. He held up both hands, as if surrendering.

  “Roger! What were you doing there?” Cara cried.

  “Uh… just looking out the window. I… uh… thought I heard something outside, but it was just a dog or something.”

  “But what are you doing in here?” I asked, my heart still pounding.

  “You really scared us,” Cara said angrily, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Sorry. I just came in to see if your parents left a note or something. Then I went to the window when I heard something outside. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  I believed him, but Cara seemed to have her doubts. My sister never believes anything anyone tells her. “But how could you not hear us? We were talking and everything.”

  “I… uh… guess those curtains are very heavy. They keep out the sound,” Roger said. He pushed a hand through his wavy brown hair. He was sweating. It was hot in our parents’ room, but not that hot.

  “I really didn’t mean to scare you,” Roger said, looking past me to Cara. She still had her arms wrapped tightly in front of her. “I was just concerned about your parents and—”

  “What’s that in your hand?” Cara interrupted.

  Roger held up a small black box. “This? It’s just my Walkman.” He started toward the door.

  “No headphones?” Cara asked suspiciously.

  “I… uh… left them upstairs,” Roger said. He put the Walkman into his pants pocket.

  The window curtains suddenly billowed out into the room.

  All three of us cried out in surprise.

  They had just been blown by the wind. Somewhere down the street in the Fear Street woods, an animal howled. I had a sudden chill. Guys at school had told me stories about wolves that roamed wild in the woods behind our house.

  “Really. I’m sorry if I scared you two,” Roger repeated, yawning. “Guess we’re all pretty tired.” He was halfway out the door, then turned around. “Listen, don’t worry about your mom and dad. I’m sure they’ll be back when you wake up in the morning.”

  “Yeah. Probably,” Cara said. Her shoulders slumped and she let out a loud sigh. “Sorry if we frightened you,” she added, making peace with Roger. “We didn’t know it was you.”

  “Night.”

  “Good night.”

  Roger disappeared out the door. We listened to his footsteps as he climbed the stairs to his room up in the attic. Then Cara dived onto the bed, sliding on her stomach and burying her face in Mom’s pillow.

  I walked over and closed the window. Down on the ground the wind was swirling the dead leaves across the front yard. Something on the street caught my eye. It was a gray van, parked directly across from our house. I hadn’t remembered seeing it there before. There was no writing on the side. It was too dark to see if anyone was in it or not.

  What was it doing there?

  I pulled the heavy curtains closed and stepped away.

  “Think Roger was telling the truth?” Cara asked, her voice muffled because her face was still buried in the pillow.

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” I said. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

  “He looked so embarrassed.”

  “You’d be embarrassed, too,” I said. “He felt stupid, that’s all.”

  I don’t know why I was defending Roger. I had nothing against him, but I didn’t really like him all that much. We didn’t have anything in common. That was part of the problem. He wasn’t into sports and I wasn’t into nineteenth-century English lit. He was so good-looking. Too good-looking, I thought. Cara’s girlfriends always started giggling and carrying on whenever Roger walked into the room. Maybe I was just a little jealous.

  But I really didn’t understand why we needed him around. Sure, he was a distant cousin or something. But that didn’t mean he had to live with us, did it? It made me uncomfortable to have someone else in the house. The creepy old house was uncomfortable enough as it was, especially compared to the neat house we’d had back in Brookline. We didn’t need some college guy lurking about, hiding behind the curtains.

  So I don’t know why I was taking Roger’s side. I guess it’s because I just like to argue with Cara.

  “What was he looking for in here?” she asked, rolling onto her back, her face hidden in the fat pillow.

  “Same thing we were, I guess,” I said, walking over and sitting down at the far end of the big queen-size platform bed.

  “But if he was looking for a note, why was he hiding behind the drapes, staring out the window?”

  I groaned. Cara could be really exhausting sometimes. “Give me a break. He explained it, didn’t he? What do you want me to say?”

  “You’re right. I’m just tired.” She closed her eyes.

  “You’re going to sleep here?”

  She yawned. “No. I’m getting up.” She stretched out her arms and smiled. It was a very comfortable bed.

  “See ya,” I said. I thought about Gena. I wondered if it was too late to call her. Probably. I thought maybe I’d call anyway.

  Suddenly the smile dropped from Cara’s face. She sat up quickly.

  “What is it?”

  “I found something under the sheet.”

  She had a small object in her hand. It looked like a tiny, white skull. I walked over to get a closer look. “What is it? A human skull?”

  “No.” Cara held it up close to her face to examine it in the dim lamplight. “It’s… it’s a monkey.”

  “What?”

  She held it up and turned it around so I could see it better. It was a carved, white monkey’s head about the size of a Ping-Pong ball. There were rhinestones deep in the eye sockets. They glowed yellow in the light from the bed-table lamp.

  I took it from her and rolled it around between my fingers. “Strange. It feels so cold.”

  “I know,” Cara said, and I could see a flash of fear cross her face. “There’s something creepy about it.”

  I held it up and turned it so that it was facing me. As I stared into its shimmering eyes, it seemed to stare back into mine. It was carved ivory, the monkey’s twin nostrils deep and dark, its teeth pulled back the width of its face in an ugly, frightening grin. It was so smooth, so cold.

  And those rhinestone eyes seemed to peer into mine—seemed to radiate—what?—radiate evil!

  I know, I know. Maybe all those rotten horror flicks Cara and I have rented have rotted my brain. Maybe I was just tired. Maybe I was upset because Mom and Dad weren’t home.

  But there was something ugly, something evil, about that tiny white monkey skull, about those strange, sparkling eyes, about that frozen monkey grin.

  I stared at it as if hypnotized for the longest time. Then I couldn’t stand it any longer, and I wrapped my fingers around the mysterious object, buried it in my hand, and shut my eyes. Even though I had been holding it tightly, it remained ice-cold, the cold burning my hand the way dry ice can burn. I tossed it back to Cara, who looked at it again, then tossed it onto the bed table, her face filled with disgust.

  “What is it? Where did it come from?” she asked.

  Just two more questions that I couldn’t answer that night.

  CHAPTER 6

  I didn’t sleep well that night. Big surprise. I stared up at the shadows crisscrossing the ceiling, thinking about Gena and how neat she was. I thought about kissing her that night, holding her on the couch. She smelled so great. She was so warm. It seemed like
we were the only ones in the room, even though the house was packed with kids.

  And of course I thought about Mom and Dad. It felt strange knowing that they weren’t downstairs in the den, reading or watching TV, or doing whatever they did after Cara and I went to bed. I didn’t feel scared. It just felt strange.

  I felt bad about the fight we had had in the morning. But that wasn’t my fault, I told myself. Lying there, twisting this way and that in the dark, I got all worked up, having the argument all over again in my mind.

  When I looked at the clock it said 1:42, almost two in the morning and I was still wide awake. I got out of bed and walked over to my bedroom window. I don’t know why. Maybe I thought I’d see Mom and Dad’s car in the drive.

  I looked down over the front yard. The yellow porch light cast strange, shifting shadows over the lawn. It was very foggy. I could barely make out the streetlight across the street. Beyond it, the dark woods disappeared into gray-blue mist.

  I pressed my forehead against the windowpane. The glass felt cool and soothing on my hot head. From somewhere in the woods I could hear two animals howling in unison. I listened carefully, even more wide awake now. The howls didn’t sound like dog howls.

  I looked out again. That gray van hadn’t moved. It was still parked directly across the street.

  The howls seemed to grow louder, closer. Suddenly I saw someone running across the lawn toward the street.

  I blinked once, twice. I was only half-awake. I thought maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me.

  No. It was Roger. I could see him clearly in the yellow porch light. His tan safari jacket flapped behind him in the wind as he ran. His long, thin shadow seemed to stretch back across the leaf-covered lawn.

  He ran quickly in a straight line. As he crossed the street, the side door of the van slid open, and he disappeared into it, two hands helping to pull him up. Then the van door slid closed.

  “What’s going on?” My voice came out in a choked whisper.

  I stared out into the fog. The van was dark and silent now. Shadows shifted on the front lawn. The surrounding darkness seemed to grow even darker.

  I realized I was shivering and stepped back from the window.

  What was going on? Why was Roger running out to that van in the middle of the night? Who was he meeting there?

  Still shivering, I turned toward the door. I decided to wake Cara. But then something beside the bed caught my eye.

  It was a soft white glow. Something was glowing on my bed table. I started toward it, stumbled, and stubbed my toe against the leg of my bed.

  “Ow!” I hopped on one foot waiting for the pain to subside. Angrily, I made my way to the bed table, grabbed up the glowing object, and turned on the lamp.

  It was the white monkey head.

  Its rhinestone eyes glowed even brighter in the light. Its tight smile seemed to be grinning up at me, laughing at me.

  Had I carried the monkey head into my room? I didn’t remember putting it on my bed table. But I must have. I was so tired last night, I just didn’t remember.…

  I tossed it onto the bed and then walked back to the window. The van was still there across the street, dark and closed up. Roger was still inside.

  Something very weird is going on here, I thought, now fully awake. I decided to run up to Roger’s room while he was outside. Maybe I could find something up there, some clue as to what Roger was up to. He’d been acting strange all night. But running out to a van in the middle of the night was too strange to ignore.

  As I pulled on my flannel robe, I struggled to come up with a logical explanation. He’s buying drugs, I thought.

  No. Roger was a total straight-arrow. I’d never seen him drink more than half a beer in an evening. He wasn’t into drugs.

  Then what? A girlfriend?

  Yes, that could be it. He could be meeting a girl.

  But that didn’t make sense, either. Why wouldn’t he just invite her in? And I’d seen the van parked out there hours earlier. If he was meeting a girl out there, why would he keep her waiting for so long?

  He had obviously waited to make sure that Cara and I had fallen asleep. Whatever he was doing, he didn’t want us to know about it.

  But what could that be?

  I stepped out into the hallway and headed toward the attic stairs. The floor creaked and squeaked as I walked. I hesitated outside Cara’s door. Should I wake her?

  I decided not to. I was just going to slip up to Roger’s room, have a quick look around, see if I could find anything helpful, and then hurry back into bed. Whatever I found could wait until morning. At least one of us was getting some sleep.

  I was on the first step up to the attic when I heard Roger right behind me. “Hey, Mark, what are you doing up?”

  CHAPTER 7

  I spun around. The hallway was lit by a small, dim night-light down by the floor across from Cara’s room. But even in the dim light, I could see that Roger was sweating and his face was flushed.

  “You scared me,” I whispered.

  “Sorry. I seem to be making a habit of it tonight.” He didn’t smile. “What are you doing up?”

  “I… well… I just went to the bathroom,” I replied, thinking quickly.

  “The bathroom is that way,” he said, pointing back down the hall.

  “I know. I—” I didn’t know what I was going to say next. “Hey, where were you?” I asked.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” he said, wiping his forehead with his hand. “Too much studying, I guess. I took a walk to clear my head.”

  He was lying. He took a walk right into that gray van.

  “It’s so warm out,” he added quickly. “I can’t believe this is November.” Then he pushed past me and started up the attic steps.

  “Well, good night,” I whispered. I decided not to call him on his lie, not to tell him I’d seen him climb into the van. I was just too tired and too confused. I wanted to tell Cara what I’d seen and then decide what to do about Roger.

  “Night,” he called back. He hurried up the steps, eager to get away from me and my questions, I guess.

  And I sure had a lot of questions now. But it was too late. The questions all swirled around in my head like clothes in a washing machine, heavy, heavy clothes.

  Suddenly, I felt very heavy, too. I lumbered back to my room and fell onto my bed without bothering to take off my robe. When I finally fell asleep, I had strange, uncomfortable dreams.

  In one dream, I was abandoned in an endless parking lot. There were gray cars as far as I could see in all directions. I was all alone in the center of the lot. I didn’t know which direction I was supposed to go. I didn’t know which car was mine. I didn’t know where to look to find a way out.

  I had been left there by somebody. I remembered that. I had been abandoned there. But what was I supposed to do next?

  When the alarm went off at seven, I awoke feeling very out-of-sorts. My muscles all ached. My head felt heavy. I didn’t remember any of my other dreams. I just remembered that they were unpleasant.

  “Give me a break!” I shouted, not at anyone or anything in particular—just at the world in general.

  I stretched and turned onto my side. I was startled to see the white monkey head on my bed table beside the clock radio.

  Again it seemed to be staring at me, grinning at me with that ugly, leering grin. The rhinestone eyes gleamed brightly even though there was little light in the room.

  I picked it up and heaved it across the room. I heard it hit the wall and bounce across the carpet. “That’ll teach you to stare,” I said aloud.

  Then, remembering Mom and Dad might be downstairs, I forced myself out of bed. I skipped my usual shower, pulled on yesterday’s jeans and a striped pullover shirt that I thought was clean enough, and ran to the stairs.

  Cara was right ahead of me. “Morning,” I said.

  She didn’t reply. “Hey, Mom! Dad!” she called, as we both took the stairs two at a time. “Where were you two?” />
  We hurried into the kitchen. It was empty. Our dirty dishes from last night were still stacked on the counter beside the sink. “We didn’t do a very good cleanup,” Cara said.

  “Who cares? Where are they?” I shouted.

  “Don’t yell at me. I don’t know!”

  “I wasn’t yelling,” I told her. Why was she trying to pick a fight?

  “Maybe they’re still asleep,” she said, pushing past me. “I’ll go up and see.”

  “I’ll go with you.” I don’t know why I followed her. It certainly didn’t take two of us to go look in their bedroom and see if they were back. I guess I just wasn’t thinking clearly. I was feeling really worried, and when I start to worry, I go into high-gear worrying!

  I stopped at the foot of the stairs and watched Cara run up to their room. A lot of horrible things flashed through my mind, horrible things that could’ve happened to Mom and Dad. “But if something horrible had happened,” I argued with myself, “the police would’ve called by now.” That thought made me feel a little better. But I knew I wouldn’t feel a lot better until I knew where they were.

  “Are they up there?” I shouted up the stairs to Cara.

  She appeared above me at the top of the stairs. I noticed that her hair was unbrushed, which was really unusual for my sister. She shook her head dejectedly. “Nope. Not home.”

  My stomach growled. I suddenly realized I was starving. I wondered if there was anything in the house for breakfast. Then I felt bad thinking about food when I should’ve been worrying about Mom and Dad.

  Cara slumped down the stairs and I followed her into the kitchen. We were both feeling pretty miserable. She found a box of cornflakes in the cabinet, but there was no milk. So we poured a bottle of Coke on it instead. “Every day should start with a balanced breakfast,” Cara muttered.

  Actually, it didn’t taste that bad.

  I had just about downed the entire bowl when I jumped up. I suddenly remembered the gray van.

  “Hey! Where are you going?” Cara called after me as I ran to the living room and peered out the window. It was still dark out. The sun was just beginning to burn through the clouds. The van was gone.